


But nothing I can remember (will ever be as good as you beside me)

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Azkaban, M/M, Marauders, sirius is sad and alone and in prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 01:08:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10425858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He had to remind himself of the things that didn’t stick out, the things he didn’t particularly want to remember, but were part of who he was, so he didn’t lose himself. He ritually went through everything he could: where he was born, how he grew up, the look in his parent’s eyes before he went to Hogwarts, and after. The soulless feeling of his childhood home, the values drilled into him at a young age that didn’t stick, or the way he felt when his father entered a room.Then there were the ones he thought of above all others.





	

There were several things Sirius Black used to keep himself from insanity during his twelve years in Azkaban.  
First, there was Padfoot. His transformation into the shaggy creature saved his mind from the dementors when nothing else could. His innocence as the dog was really what got him out of there with his brain still functioning.  
He also, however, had his memories. There were several ones that he clung to. Ones that he replayed in his mind so many times they almost became all he had left. He knew, however, for his own sake, he needed to remind himself of everything to stop himself becoming like the others in the prison, the ones who had lost their minds long ago and now only existed as a shell.  
He had to remind himself of the things that didn’t stick out, the things he didn’t particularly want to remember, but were part of who he was, so he didn’t lose himself. He ritually went through everything he could: where he was born, how he grew up, the look in his parent’s eyes before he went to Hogwarts, and after. The soulless feeling of his childhood home, the values drilled into him at a young age that didn’t stick, or the way he felt when his father entered a room.

Then there were the ones he thought of above all others.

The first weekend he spent at Hogwarts, sitting in front of the common room fire with the rest of the first years. In a situation so unfamiliar to his upbringing in the Black household at 12 Grimmauld Place. Everyone sharing stories and laughing and just enjoying everyone’s company. He remembered James’ voice from where he sat next to him, loud and excited as he tried to explain something to the group around him.  
It was then that he realised why he’d been sorted into that house, as he sat there taking it all in and feeling like he belonged for the first time in his life. And it was then he decided he could handle being the family disappointment if being there, with those people, is what it meant.

The first time he’d kissed Moony, on Christmas Eve at the Lupin family home. He’d been invited to stay with Remus over the Holiday in fifth year after he’d found out he would be the only Gryffindor staying at school over the break.  
He’d put his hand reassuringly on Remus’ knee during dinner when one of his aunts asked when he’d be bringing a girlfriend home at last. He didn’t move it when the conversation topic moved on.  
They went for a walk afterwards so they wouldn’t have to help with the dishes. They ended up sitting under an old tree at the end of the garden. Neither of them were sure how the mistletoe had ended up hanging from the large oak branch, but they didn’t mention it as they discussed how shameful it would be not to honour such a tradition. They both knew neither one of them cared much for tradition, and they were laughing as they leaned closer. Sirius always remembered how cold Remus’ lips were from the snow.  
He was sure if it had been with anyone else he would have gagged at the cliché.

The time James had come into the dorm and announced loudly while everyone was trying to sleep that he had gotten Lily Evans to agree to go to the next Hogsmeade weekend with him. Sirius had threatened to hex him if he didn’t shut up, but couldn’t help feeling happy for his friend who hadn’t stopped talking about the girl since they were first years. Remus had asked if he’d had to look in the restricted section of the library for such a powerful love potion. James threw a pillow at him and announced he was ‘a catch’ and that Lily was possibly the luckiest girl in Gryffindor. Sirius wondered exactly what she’d seen in the git, but to be fair, he was friends with him, too.

He remembered every time he woke up in his red and gold four poster bed with Remus curled up next to him. How he would open his eyes and see his familiar light brown hair and soft features. He thought of the days when they would skip breakfast, and sometimes their first period after Sirius’ persuading (“Come on Moony, it’s not like we learn anything in Divination anyway”) to stay wrapped up in each other’s warmth just for a little while longer.  
There were always plenty of jokes from James and Peter on their behalf (“make sure you remember to eat between staring in each other’s eyes”). Sirius always brought up the love poem James wrote for Lily in second year, which shut him up in no time.

Those moments during the war when they pretended everything was alright, and that everything good would last forever. The late nights when they would talk about getting married, a huge wedding with everyone they knew and a honeymoon somewhere warm. They discussed what they would call their kids and how many they would have. He had always said Remus would be a wonderful father.  
They knew their lives could never be like that, not in the midst of a war. It never stopped Remus thinking what it would have been like if he had never been sent to Azkaban.

The last time the marauders had ever been all together, sitting and laughing in James and Lilly’s living room, everyone covered by a soft, orange glow from the fire and forgetting there was a war on. Sirius remembered how tired Remus looked, with dark rings under his eyes and premature creases forming. He was laughing, though. It was probably the last time Sirius had seen him truly happy.

There were times, though, when Sirius couldn’t get his mind to focus on anything but the pain. He couldn’t get anything to run through his mind except the hollowness in his stomach, and the longing he had for human contact. Those were the times he felt himself on the brink of sanity, only held back by the promise to himself that one day he would find a way back to Remus, and from there he would be able to put everything right.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this like 6 months ago and forgot about it and im posting it because its probably the only thing ive ever finished. I hope u enjoyed my shitty sad Sirius.


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